


A Collection of BroJohn Requests

by turntechnologic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Daddy Kink, Drabbles, John is a distraction, M/M, Pet Play, Prompt Fill, Role Reversal, fic requests, mentions of abuse, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turntechnologic/pseuds/turntechnologic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I take BroJohn requests on my <a href="http://www.turntechnologic.tumblr.com/">writing blog</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pet Play

**Author's Note:**

> Anon(s) Asked: 
> 
> asphyxiation kink, bondage, dirty talking, petplay (any or all)
> 
> pet play?
> 
>  
> 
> Do not read this I failed.

If you had to name your favorite thing about John, it would probably be how easy it was to get him flustered.

A kiss on the cheek in front of Dave, a hand on his thigh at dinner, a bouquet of flowers outside his house.

This probably explained why he was so tight-lipped about his kinks.

You thought you had it, though. The kid was so eager to put a collar on- pet play. It had to be pet play. The moment the soft leather collar was out of the bag his clothes were flying everywhere and he was spread out, flushed and needy in your bed.

You’ve always wanted a cat, and John’s purrs were enough to shave ten minutes off your stamina, as embarrassing as that was.  
Honestly, though, you should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy.

"Tighter, Bro. Make it tighter,"

"Master," you corrected him automatically as you returned your hands to the collar. Eyebrows furrowed, you snuck a finger under the worn leather and frowned. That shit was already pretty tight. It pulled at the skin around it and left light red marks when it shifted elsewhere on his neck.

"I don’t think I should make this tighter." You said as you withdrew your hand and moved to reach for his tail plug.

"No, please, Master," John asked as he reached out and grabbed your hand, raising it back to his throat as he looked up at you pleadingly. His eyes were big and blue and positively burning with need.

It clicked after a moment. A dangerous smirk was enough to scare John into releasing your hand.

You reached for the tail plug and gestured for him to turn around on his hands and knees. He obeyed slowly, an obvious look of nervousness in his eyes that confirmed your suspicions.

You knew, and he was aware of it.

"What a slutty pet," You cooed as you dragged his boxers down his hips and exposed his fine ass. You have it a light slap and watched it bounce for a very self-indulgent moment before you reached over for the lube at the side of your bed.

"Bet you were just aching for me to find out, weren’t you? Been dreaming about me with a hand around your throat?" You hummed as you slicked your fingers with the cherry lube and ran them up and down between his ass cheeks. John hissed and bent his front half down, resting his cheek against the bed as you watched his face flush.

Oh yeah. You loved to make him flustered.

"Such a naughty kitten. You probably jerk yourself every night just imagining it. Just thinking about how good it would feel if my hand was tight against your skin instead of this fucking collar." With a flick of your wrist you unhooked the leather collar and let it fall to the bed. As soon as it was gone you wrapped your hand around his throat and pressed your first two fingers in. John lurched forward and groaned, hazy and low words leaking from his lips as you worked.

"Yes, please, please," He whined as he rocked his hips back on your hand. You closed your hand a little tighter, feeling his pulse against your fingers flutter as his voice cut off and he gasped for air. The way his hips stuttered as he helplessly tried to grind against anything made your jeans tighten uncomfortably, but your pet needed attending first.

"Come on. Purr for me, kitten, I wanna hear it."


	2. Daddy Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon Asked: for the sending you a kink thing can i have like a reverse brojohn where john is older and he shows bro what a non-abusive father/son relationship works but also they frick. so in short like daddy-kink?
> 
> Welp, anon, I tried.

He insisted that you call him John. At first even the thought made you a little uneasy, but he’d always look a little sad if you reverted back to “mister”. Most of the energy you spent talking to him was actively put in trying to not look at the floor, though, and you slipped up a couple times. When that happened he never got mad, he didn’t berate you or raise a hand. Just a gentle reminder that he’d like it if you called him by his name. It went against everything you had previously know.

He said he liked your eyes. Thought they were beautiful, that you should smile more. It took a while to believe him, but John’s words had a way of washing over all the rough and coarse language that had come to define you and describe you. You weren’t a waste of space in his presence, nor a freak, a reject, anything of the sort.

And you began to think so when you were apart as well.

He took you places, spent money on you, held your hand and kissed your forehead. John was, in every sense of the word, the father you never had. On occasion he liked to tell you he was the father you deserved, but that would make you look away as your cheeks darkened.

Because for as long as you’ve existed, you didn’t “deserve” anything other than a sharp word that rattled around in your brain or a rough grip that printed marks on your skin.

Sometimes you weren’t even worth the effort.

The way John would kiss you made you think differently. His lips were soft and warm and- well, tasty. His touches were gentle and light, ever the gentleman and a shining knight to his sweet prince. He gave you worth and willpower, some kind of strength to look up and smile.

It took a long, long while, but eventually you made the next move.

It was dark, kind of late. Your scumbag father didn’t care where you were, and you thought that a blessing when you shuffled up to John’s front door, winded from the walk and weary from an exhausting day. Your shoulder ached in a way you weren’t too keen on explaining, but John’s arms were open and he smiled down at you gently.

The picture of a loving father- something you didn’t have until he came into your life.

Something clicked when you kissed him this time. Maybe it had to do with the firm grip he let you take in his shirt, or the calming and soothing touch to your back, but when you pulled back it was to make a shaky request into the side of his neck.  
John took you up in his arms and carried you to his room. His sheets were warm beneath you back, but nothing compared to the heat of his skin as you arched against him and tried to pull him as close as two people could get.

"It’s alright, Dirk, have a little patience," He said. The name made your gut twist a little. You much preferred the pet names he used, because while Dirk was your name, it had been beaten up and trodden on far too often to be fixed in a single year. John could do it, you’re sure of it, but it would still take time.

"Can you call me something else," You said, voice small and unsure as he worked your shirt up off your torso.

"Well how come you get a nickname and I don’t," He protested with a laugh as he moved to brace himself above you, hands on either side of your shoulders as he smiled. You slid a hand up and rubbed a thumb against his cheek, your lips mirroring his.  
"That’s your rule, old man. But if you insist I guess Daddy works fine."

Your toes curled a little when the word rolled off your tongue. It felt right to call him that. It fit perfectly, and you looked up at him with a little bit of cautious hope as he smiled down at you.

"That works great, bro." He said with a wicked little grin. Obviously the man thought his prankster’s gambit was shooting through the roof- what kind of a pet name was bro?

"Yeah, alright. I like it." You said, smiling up at him a little broader. You watched as his rolled his eyes.  
Honestly, Bro was fine with you. John was your Daddy, and that’s what was important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [request here!](http://www.turntechnologic.tumblr.com/)


	3. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> catwitharibbonandsword asked: brojohn in which john is bored so he goes to distracting bro from his work till he pays attention to him but it doesn’t work ,so he just sits in bro’s lap facing him ,blocking the computer screen as bro tries to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp.

Today was the worst fucking day to ever run out of felt. Really though- fuck his life, fuck it all and fuck all of his orders and the fact that he got so far behind on them all because of-

Nope. Nope. Not goin there tonight, you know better.

Sighing softly, Bro closed the door to his room with a determined little sniff, resigned to an hour or so of scouring through the web, trying to track down the cheapest and largest orders of obnoxious felt colors he could find. Of course he got the freaks who wanted the strange, uncanny skin tones. He should really put a cap on the colors he offered.

Bro walked over to his desk and swung his chair around. Flopping into it, he spun around and faced the computer with as determined an expression he could muster.

He’s doing this, man, he’s making this happen.

And, actually, it did. For like ten whole minutes Bro was working diligently, combing through Amazon and eBay and a whole slew of Japanese superstores- and he didn’t even get distracted by the car pages once.

Not once.

Just as he was about to place a bid on some repulsively large order of some uncomfortable shade of tan, there was a soft little knock on his door.

"Bro? You in there?"

Hands frozen on the keyboard, Bro closed his eyes and silently cursed his past self for ever, ever thinking it would be a good idea to give John Egbert a key to his apartment.

"I’m working, kid, go the fuck home." He said as his fingers slowly thawed, joint by joint. Eventually Bro was able to crank out a whole word or so under the intense pressure that hung on his shoulders. There wasn’t another sound from the other side of the door. Had he not moved away yet?

"But Broooo," Came the whine. Of course. Of course he wouldn’t leave.

"Aren’t you a sophomore? In college? What’s all the whining for?"

Bro looked down to see his fingers curled back into his palm with exasperation. To say he wasn’t in the mood for this was no small exaggeration, especially when he noticed the price on the felt rise by twenty five dollars of so. Who the fuck else needed that much felt? Seriously?

Bristling slightly, Bro leaned back into his computer and decidedly ignored the presence of the attractive man outside his bedroom door in favor of bidding furiously for this shitty pile of godforsaken felt that he needed to get his hands on, because that looming pile of orders was only going to grow unless he did something about it.

The door to his room swung open with an obnoxious squeak, as if the hinges had never been oiled in their lifetime. Bro knew this was bullshit, though, because rule one of being a stealthy motherfucker was making sure there were no harrowing noises declaring your movements and giving away your position.

“John, really, I’m trying to work,” Bro said, only a little guiltily as he kept his gaze firmly planted on the screen in front of him. He could hear the light footsteps cross over the threshold and into his room. This kid would not give up.

“But Bro, I’m on break,” The younger boy said softly as he came up behind him, placing his hands on the tense and hunched shoulders and leaning down to whisper coyly in his ear. “A whole week off. I should have brought some clothes with me, but it’s too late for that. Guess I gotta wear yours.”

John sat back on his heels with a smug smile Bro didn’t even need to see to know was there and worked the hard muscle beneath his hands as he literally tried to warm Bro up to his presence.

“John,” Bro said firmly, very happy he had an excuse to stare at something other than the person behind him, especially with the little blush across his cheeks. This kid was going to be the death of him. “I’m really trying to work here, you can crash on the cou-”

John cut him off with a short huff as he pulled his chair away from the desk and planted himself very firmly in Bro’s lap with a determined expression, arms crossed, mouth in a pout, eyes flashing in a very obvious challenge as he made it undoubtedly clear he was not going to move.

Bro looked at him for a moment, unimpressed and entirely fed up before he gave in with a sigh as he reached around and closed the tab he’d been focused on.

Fuck priorities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [request here!](http://www.turntechnologic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
